A Death At Hand
by Nozomi
Summary: (future HxZ, CxI) 'Zero' Enna is just a normal, carefree nobleman's son- Until he and his friend stumble upon a dead body. Things start to heat up after, and awakening powers begin to take control. Can they stop it? Or will they even realize what's wrong?
1. Some Body's Discovery

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A Death At Hand

"Some Body's Discovery"

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By Nozomi

Blackness filled the vast room; tonight, the moon was dead, swallowed up by the oblivion of space.

16-year-old Rei "Zero" Enna slipped silently through the halls of his father's great manor, grinning mischievously as he gestured to another shadowed figure accompanying his own.

"Clay! Don't lag behind! You're gonna get us caught!" came the urgent whisper as the youth made his way towards the end of the corridor. He could imagine his friend pushing up his glasses in annoyance, though Zero couldn't make the movement out in the dark. Stealthily, he turned and grabbed his blonde friend's hand, turning and dragging the protesting boy down the way.

"Wait, Zero! We could get in serious trouble for this, you know!"

Of course, Zero Enna was not known for his stealth.

__

*CLUNK*

He tripped on a random object littering the floor -probably a flower vase or pot or something- and the two went rolling headfirst down the lushly carpeted hall, coming to a stop once they crashed with a dull _*THUD*_ into the wall at the end. Zero jumped up immediately, pulling Clay with him. 

"Alright! Let's do that again!"

His friend just let out a long-suffering sigh, "We really should get back to the party."

The chocolate-haired boy frowned. "And be hounded by those overbearing _women_ again? I don't think so. Just whose side are you on, anyway?"

"Mine. And I vote for _not_ getting in trouble for once. Besides, that Ikhny girl seemed kind of interesting."

"Yeah, yeah." He wasn't listening to a word Clay was saying, of course. No one did when he started lecturing like that.

"Hey, are you listening-"

"Follow me!" he cried, and grabbed Clay's wrist, pulling him down yet another hallway. Clay, of course, followed, though it has to be said that he did so more than a bit reluctantly.

Since they were children, and had first been introduced to each other at the age of 5, Zero had been getting into trouble. And it seemed wherever Zero was, Clay was not far behind. The blonde boy was the cautious, realistic one of the two; it didn't mean, however, that he wasn't partial to having a little fun once in awhile himself. It was just that 'once in awhile' in Clay's mind translated to 'everyday' in Zero-talk. 

Yet, whatever Zero got himself into, despite his protests, Clay would always be there, along for the ride. It was almost enough to make one wonder whether Clay really minded breaking the rules so much; he did, after all, hang around with Zero. That was one sure-fire way to find oneself constantly in trouble. Like the time Zero had convinced him to sneak out of lessons and take out their horses for an afternoon ride. Or when he had been _somehow_ convinced to scale a fence and throw rocks at the farmer's cows. He had no idea how THAT had occurred. He had been young and impressionable back then.

Scratch that; it was only a year ago.

Whatever the reason, Clay always stuck by Zero, no matter what. They may have been almost total opposites at first glance, but the two had long formed a bond that would not be broken, through all the trials and tribulations Clay himself was forced to endure.

They turned yet _another_ corner- and paused, Clay almost colliding head-on with Zero's back. Ah, there was nothing like running rampant down nearly black halls at midnight, towed along by a psychotic best friend. Not that he was complaining, exactly.

Ok, maybe just a little.

Peering over his friend's shoulder, he spotted what he supposed Zero did as well: the vague shadow of a figure moving around in a room farther down the hall. Who on earth could it be? No one was supposed to be in this part of the house; everyone was supposed to be at the party.

'That includes us,' Clay thought, pushing his glasses up in obvious agitation. Out of the corner of his eye, he could vaguely spot Zero bring a finger to his lips in a shushing motion, before tiptoeing silently down the halls. Clay was impressed; it wasn't every day that Zero showed some brains in handling a potential problem. Oh, he knew the chocolate-eyed boy was smart, it was just the way he applied himself that made the difference.

Together, the two slid softly towards the open door. Clay was beginning to think that this endeavor would actually turn out _right_ for once- when Zero tripped once again, giving a startled yelp before crashing to the ground.

Geez. Could the boy _get_ any clumsier?

All movement inside the room immediately stopped; Clay found himself straining to hear the merest sound emitted, then let his imagination run free for a moment, and imagined the person in the room doing the same concerning them. It gave him the heebie-jeebies.

Cursing softly, Zero picked himself up off the floor and threw caution to the wind. "Whoever's in there, you better come out now! You're not allowed to be fooling around in my house!"

Great job, Zero. That'll _really_ scare 'em.

There was a pause, and Clay thought he saw more movement from the room- before their ears were filled with a loud _*crash*_; the tinkling sound of breaking glass. Immediately the two young boys jumped into action, racing inside the room- Clay almost ran into Zero's back again. That was becoming a very annoying habit. Definitely something he needed to break, and fast.

"Zero? What is it?"

"… I-… I-… Clay… It's… it's…" Interesting. He was actually speechless. Must be something really traumatic.

It was. Oh God, it was.

Before them, lying almost totally covered in broken glass and china dinnerware, was a body. _A body!_ … It looked dead, covered in blood like it was. Clay could only hope to God it wasn't.

"Is… is he… dead?" Zero managed, that last word cracking his already broken sentence.

For that, he had no answer. It wasn't moving, that was certain. It didn't seem to be breathing, either.

Yeah. Don't think of it as a 'he'. It's an 'it'. Only an it. Not a real person. Things like this didn't happen to real people.

He staggered back, trying to get out of the room; that room, it was suffocating, choking him.

"I…" he swallowed convulsively, "I'll… go get help."

And with that, he was gone.

Like anyone could help.

For a long moment, Zero stood staring, enraptured by the scene. He couldn't tear his eyes away; his brain kept running in an endless circle.

'No no no no no nonononononononononononono!'

Finally, he pulled himself out of his stupor long enough to realize that the kill weapon still lay there, embedded in the victim's chest. It was a dagger, jewel-encrusted and strikingly familiar. He leaned down, careful not to glance at the body's face lest he be overcome by nausea, and took a closer look. He had to pull it out to do so, and that simple action causing him to retch violently, but he made it.

The insignia was that of a high noble line, those two lines crossed just so, signified the firstborn. He recognized that insignia! He had been introduced to the owner of it just three days ago!

This dagger belonged to the firstborn son of the Gner line: Hiead Gner.

He was the murderer! Hiead…

Zero and the silver-haired boy had been introduced by way of their fathers; neither had liked the other, and they hadn't seen each other since. But, this… This was an atrocity!

The sound of footsteps cracking upon broken glass brought his attention to the other side of the room. Someone was here! He stood up, bringing the dagger with him, his hands stained with blood.

"Clay…?"

"No." the figure stepped closer, into the light, and Zero gasped. That silver hair, those wine-colored eyes, that infernal smirk-

"But it looks like I've caught myself a killer."

Hiead Gner!

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Questions, comments, criticism? Send 'em here! ^.^ Wow. I like this so far! And this is only the prologue. ^.^; So, you're done reading. Tell me what ya think!

Nozomi


	2. Twist of Shadows

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A Death At Hand

"Twist of Shadows"

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By Nozomi

Zero jumped up, ready for a fight if it came down to it. "Hiead!"

"Zero Enna."

Grr. How DARE the murderer call him by that name! It was HIS, to share with only certain people. Especially not HIM!

Waitaminute- 

"WHAT? What are you talking about, Hiead?!" Zero cried, outraged. Accusingly, "This is YOUR dagger! YOU killed him!"

"A pathetic attempt to frame me, Zero Enna. That dagger was stolen from me three days ago. And, if I'm not mistaken, right after we were introduced. Besides, _you're _the one with the knife clutched in your bloodstained hands."

A smirk, even as his voice trailed off to an accusing, vehement whisper.

Damn him, anyway. He was right. But Zero certainly wasn't going to take that from _Hiead Gner_, of all people!

He dropped the dagger, lunging at the ruby-eyed youth and fisting his collar, lifting him off of the ground and slamming him against the wall. "You-! You were in here! It has to be you!"

A fist slammed into his stomach, and he reeled, releasing Hiead from his grip. The silver-haired boy's feet connected with the floor, and he gestured, smiling maliciously, at a second door into the room, across from where Zero and Clay had entered- it was wide open.

He hadn't heard the door being opened! Hiead was obviously lying!

… Then again, he hadn't heard OR seen the ruby-eyed boy approach him until he had actually set foot on the shattered glass fragments.

As Clay would say, 'Interesting'. But it was no help in locating the murderer. It could have been Hiead; it could have been someone else, for all he knew.

From a few feet away, Zero thought he could hear the cur actually begin to chuckle. To laugh! How could he? How could he, at a time-

… at a time like this? 

As if of their own volition, Zero felt his eyes wander towards the… the body lying sprawled, bruised and broken, across the floor, and he could barely suppress the wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him. Dead! Someone had _died_ here! 

No, it was more than that. Someone had been _killed_. Deliberately murdered in cold blood.

Hiead's maniacal laughter seemed to stretch on for an eternity. Finally, though, even he had to pause for breath, and as he did so he uttered words that seemed so fitting and yet so strange, thrust out into this fragmented reality. "I come here to locate an errant servant, and stumble across this mess. Who would have guessed Zero Enna, the carefree idiot known for miles around as a prankster, a jester, would ever have the guts to commit such a crime."

Zero didn't even spare a glance at him. His eyes were riveted now on his bloodied hands. Stained. His hands burned. The blood splashed across them burned, as if the thick liquid would burst into flame at any moment. He expected it to, expected the red to leave scars on his hands. So red… almost crimson in color. It couldn't be actual blood, could it? It was too vibrant. Nothing was that vibrant. Nothing dead.

Dead.

"I didn't do it!" he cried out suddenly, voice full of inner torment. "I didn't! I didn't kill him! I DIDN'T!" a desperate plea. His hands were shaking. Trembling violently. He couldn't keep his grip, and the bloodstained dagger fell softly, silently to the floor, a dull sound as it hit the floor the only mark of its descent. The noise registered in Zero's twisted, broken awareness only vaguely. He swallowed thickly, eyes darting around. Wildly. Madly. He wanted to bury his face in his hands, but the blood… the blood…

"I didn't…" it was a chant now, a mantra falling from his lips like drops of rain from swollen clouds. "…kill him… didn't… didn't kill…"

Everything was happening too fast; too slow.

Zero's head jerked up, dark brown hair flopping in front of his wild eyes, as he thought his ears picked up the sound of someone calling his name.

"…Mother…?" tentatively. Was she…?

"Rei!"

"Mother!" he cried, dry, empty sobs suddenly wracking his body. It could have been _her_! It could have been _him_! His crimson hands gripped the indigo carpet as if to rip it out. Mother…

She appeared in the doorway then, cobalt eyes alighting upon her son almost immediately. So. It hadn't been just his imagination. With a cry, his mother raced towards him, skirts billowing out behind her, and wrapped Zero in a comforting embrace. His hands automatically came up to fist at the front of her blouse, as if to hold her to him; as if she would vanish in an instant. In her arms… he felt safe, protected from all things evil as her silver-blonde hair curtained them both.

"What is the meaning of this?!" his father's authoritative voice. Yes. His father would make it all better, make it all go away, someplace where it couldn't touch him.

But he was already stained, as surely and deeply as if he'd been burned by acid.

The blood on his hands was soaking into her pure white dress; marring it. He couldn't make himself let go.

Zero felt his mother's head turn, and he gripped tighter to her shirt. No, Mother… Don't go… But his body felt numb, and he couldn't force the words out.

"Be careful, there's glass!" came his mother's voice. A collective gasp rose from the direction of the doorway, and Zero could only assume the other attendants of the party had all crowded around the small opening to the room, and had all just spotted the desecrated figure lying on the floor.

"Lord Rupert!"

"It is!"

"Oh, my god…"

"He's dead!"

"Murder!"

The words; too many words. They were mixing together; he couldn't make sense of them. It was all just one big jumble of sounds. They didn't matter. Nothing mattered.

He was vaguely aware of his mother urging him to stand on shaky legs, and of being led out of that room. It had suddenly seemed too small; too small to breathe in.

Not too small to die in, it seemed.

Oh, god. The young Enna squeezed his eyes tight, trying to rid himself of the image that thought brought forth. But he doubted he'd ever be rid of it; as long as he lived, it would follow him, plague him in his worst nightmares and deepest fears. It would haunt him.

Like a ghost of time.

-----

It was surprising to run into Zero Enna outside of the party. It was even more so to find him clutching a bloody knife; _his_ dagger.

Then he saw the body. Hiead recognized it immediately, of course. It was the broken corpse of none other than Lord Ian Rupert, the very same one that was such a high acquaintance of Lord Enna. The sight wasn't overly disturbing, though it did catch him by surprise for a moment; he had, of course, seen many a dead body before. His father hadn't gained his wealth simply by playing nice, after all.

No, what really disturbed Hiead was that he had _felt_ anything at all, seeing Zero Enna with blood on his hands. Since childhood, he had trained himself to block everything out, to feel emotions through a mental wall, per say. It was easier, not to mention safer, that way. Emotions and the, sometimes violent, reactions they caused made you vulnerable to attack. Hiead had sworn never to be beaten at anything, and so far he had succeeded. Of course, every few years an event occurred that broke through the self-constructed defense Hiead had built around himself; like the day, eight years ago, when his mother had died, killed in the marketplace by a runaway horse.

That day had been the last time Hiead had ever fully and truly felt anything, and he was better off for it.

He had announced his presence by deliberately walking across the spilled glass and chinaware from the overturned wooden shelves. Zero had been too wrapped up in the body to notice he was there up until then. Thence followed the predictable display of viscous anger from Enna.

Hiead had found the whole situation humorous, though not entirely because he was a twisted S.OB. Due to the fact that he felt muddled emotions, he tended to view currently occurring events as if they were happening in someone else's life, and he was just along for the ride. This had gained him many curious glances over the years, quizzical as to why he wasn't as predictable as others of his age.

He had no answer for Zero's sudden outburst.

Zero. He had called the boy that because he knew it would anger him. Rei was what he should have called him, or even Enna. But Hiead was an antagonist at heart. It was why he had been in the room in the first place; looking for one of his servants. The silly girl had actually been insulted by something he had said, when it was clearly obvious he was only stating the truth. She had disappeared soon after Hiead had spotted that annoying Clay Cliff Fortran leave the ballroom, following Zero Enna.

Speak of the devil. There was Clay now, standing just outside the door. Why, the boy looked positively green. He must have been the one that brought the whole party down on top of them. 

Hiead took advantage of the fact that everyone's attention was focused on the murder site to take his leave, sending the linked hands of Clay and Ikhny a scathing look as he passed. Pathetic boy actually needed a _girl's_ comfort.

Did Zero kill the guy? Hiead doubted it now. The total breakdown Enna had gone through was hard to fake, though it _had_ been interesting to watch. Right now, however, Zero was the only suspect besides Clay that he had, and he seriously doubted Fortran had the guts to do anything remotely connected with murder. Zero probably had at least *something* to do with the murder, whether directly or indirectly Hiead wasn't sure.

There was one thing for sure, however; he was going to find out if it killed him.

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Clay stood outside the door in the aftermath of the discovery, refusing to enter the room. His mind was whirling in an attempt to locate all the new information that needed to be processed and filed in its rightful place, but he doubted his thoughts would settle down anytime soon. His first reaction to practically tripping over a corpse hadn't quite passed yet; he was still feeling very much nauseous. His fingers tingled as if anything he touched would send sparks shooting straight through him, and his head ached. He didn't even have the energy to push up his glasses from where they were slowly slipping down his nose.

Ikhny stood next to him. The quiet girl had been the first to rush to him when he had stumbled, in shock, into the ballroom just minutes before. With some effort, he had finally managed to convey the horrible, shocking news to his father, Lord Cameron Fortran of England. He suspected they hadn't quiet believed him at first; he hung around Zero Enna, after all, and Zero was known for his practical jokes.

Christine Enna had believed his story, at least. She had convinced the others to go and validate Clay's story, and she had gone on a bit ahead of everyone else to make sure Zero was safe; her son was in the room where a murder had just taken place, and maybe where a murderer was still lurking in wait for their next victim.

Standing there, trying not to imagine the scene in that room, he almost broke down. It was a great struggle to hold his pose, even with the support of the wall behind him. His hands fell limply at his sides, and his head fell back against the wall. As if disconnected from his own body, he felt a cool hand that could only be Ikhny's catch hold of his own, offering silent strength and support from their interlocked hands. He was grateful, though he could not show it.

Clay heard the tearful reunion of mother and son from his place beside the door. Zero… he hoped his friend would be all right. He had abandoned him in that horrible room, all alone.

Apparently not _quite_ alone, it seemed, as Hiead Gner passed by. The boy hadn't been at the party last time he had checked, so couldn't have heard the news so quickly; he had to have already been there. With Zero. In that room.

Hiead… Why was he in the room in the first place?

A glimmer of an idea began to form in Clay's mind, but he was just too exhausted, both mentally and physically, to complete it at that moment. He would let it run its course later, when he had more time to think.

For now… he needed to sleep.

With a bit of help from Ikhny, Clay pushed himself off of the wall and began to make his way down the hall towards his room, and a rest he desperately needed.

-----

He couldn't sleep.

The events of that day kept playing over and over in his mind, and he was powerless to stop them from taking center-stage in his brain.

With a sigh, Clay turned over, eyes fixed on some blank spot on his wall. He stayed in the Enna mansion so frequently that half of his worldly belongings resided here. He practically lived here. And usually, after a long day such as this, he would fall into the embrace of sleep almost instantly.

But tonight was different, in more than one way.

He still had that headache. And it didn't seem like it would let him sleep anytime soon.

There was nothing for it. Throwing back his sheets, Clay sat up, tentatively reaching down one foot to poke at the ground. Ew. Ice cold.

Deciding to brave it, he stood and made his way towards his door, opening and closing it, careful not to make too much noise. Down the hall a ways was Zero's room, and Clay headed towards it, pausing just outside the door.

He doubted Zero would mind if… 

Of course not. He wouldn't mind.

Mind made up, Clay slowly pushed the door open, slipping inside. He made sure to close the door behind him, lest he let in drafts, then peered over at where he knew lay Zero's bed. The chocolate-haired boy was sprawled, per usual, across the bed. He looked like he didn't posses a care in the world, but Clay knew better. He was just too deep in sleep for any type of thought to reach him, including the nightmares that would indubitably come.

Years ago, barely two weeks after Clay had first met Zero, the young Fortran had spent the night. Unused to the unknown room he had been made to sleep in, Clay had lain awake most of the night due to the fact that he had begged to hear a ghost tale from the cook, finally building up enough courage to make his way to where he knew Zero's room to be. Zero had been awakened by his knocking, and had invited Clay to come in. The blonde had confessed to his fears, fearing that Zero would laugh and make fun of him, but the boy instead had told him he could stay the night in his bed, if he wanted. That night, Clay had found the peace of sleep not long after he lay down next to Zero. The feeling of a warm body next to his comforted him as he slept.

Of course, Clay had stopped the nightly ritual years before; 11-year-old boys did not need to be afraid of the dark, they were almost men!

But tonight was different. Just this once wouldn't hurt.

He smiled and approached the bed, lifting up the sheets and gently nudging Zero over. "Move over, you big idiot…" he whispered, knowing Zero couldn't hear him. His friend mumbled something inarticulate and rolled over, burying his face in the pillow, his messy brown hair splayed across it. Clay slipped in next to him, and lay on his side, watching Zero sleep. And soon, he too fell into the deep reaches of oblivion.

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C&C greatly appreciated! See you in the next chapter!

Nozomi


	3. Blood Of A Rose

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A Death At Hand

"Blood Of A Rose"

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By Nozomi

He dreamed.

He stood in a great hall. Around him, wood of the finest caliber formed beautiful walls. Lavish decorations were scattered all the way down the magnificent hallway.

Where was he? This wasn't home.

"Mother…?" his voice sounded odd; the sound seemed to be sucked from his very breath. There was no echo where there should have been one. No sound.

"Hello?" no answer.

Tentatively, he made his way down the hallway, as there seemed no other way to go; when he looked behind him, there was a nothing but a blank wall. It seemed to stare at him, to urge him forward.

So he went. Twenty steps down the hall, he almost hit his head on one of the wooden dips that came down from the ceiling. How could that be? When he had started out, the structure had been at least five feet over his head! Now it seemed to be _shrinking_!

He looked back- and stared. That blank wall was following him! He couldn't go back any farther than when he hadn't moved. This _should_ have scared him to no end- he had heard enough ghost stories from Stephan, the cook, to have a glimmer of what this might be. But the eerie calm that had taken hold of him wasn't shaken so easily.

Reaching out, he tried to open one of the many doors lining both sides of the hallway; it wouldn't open. A few steps further; the next door wouldn't open either. Odd. Another glance behind showed that the wall had advanced yet again; he was as far from it as he'd always been, but now he had to almost stoop to prevent himself from banging his head.

"Open the doors…" a child's voice, from all around him and nowhere at all.

What was that? He was sure someone had just whispered something to him. 'Open the doors'? But he had already tried; they wouldn't budge!

"The walls, boy, the walls…"

The walls? The walls were the doors?

He gently pushed on the wall next to the door he had just tried; yep, it opened. Inside was a regular sized bedroom, complete with regular furnishings. He poked his head in a bit, looking around.

"Hello?"

Wait. What was that-? Ugh, that _awful_ stench? Disgusting.

He had no time to react or protect himself as, without even a breath of wind as warning, an unholy gust of wind burst forth from the _inside_ of the room, reeking of that unbearable smell, and threw him violently across the hall and into the adjacent wall. The camouflaged door slammed shut with a threatening bang. [1]

Well, so much for _that_ door. Now what?

The hallway around him suddenly began to dissolve, faster and faster until there was no trace of it left. At least that obstacle was over. What next?

He stood up and glanced around, eyes locating the only other thing here; a single, red rose. It was… beautiful, almost glowing with an unearthly light. He leaned down and snatched it up from the obsidian floor, bringing it up to his face for closer inspection. Seemed normal enough…

He ran his other hand across its velvet soft petal, pulling back suddenly as he felt something drip onto his fingers. Upon a closer look, he saw a fluid that look uncannily like blood dripping over his outstretched hand. Blood? Roses didn't bleed! Especially not red blood!

A hissing invaded his ears, and his gaze snapped over to his other hand, which still held the rose. It… the rose was _melting_! How-?

Green and red spilled thickly over his hand, running a lazing path. It burned! Oh, it hurt! He tried to shake it off, but the liquid substance clung to his hand like a leech, unwilling to let go. He could only watch in horror as the stuff began to pulse, to grow, beginning to engulf his arm. He felt like he was melting, himself! Through the pain, he felt as the liquid reached his neck, then finally his face, beginning to pour into his wide-open mouth and-

-----

Zero jerked awake, crying out from the phantom pain induced by the dream. He clapped a hand over his mouth, trying to keep the nausea from overtaking his senses. Next to him, Clay slipped from the bed and fell with a *clunk* to the floor, the blond boy's head popping up to glare balefully at him soon afterwards.

Waitaminute- what was _Clay_ doing in his bed?

"Hey, what the-" It seemed Clay wasn't quite aware of what he was doing there himself. Zero guessed it was taking him longer than usual to get things straight because he didn't have his glasses to help him. The blonde boy really couldn't see a thing without his glasses.

"…Zero…?"

"Mm?"

"…How are you feeling?"

"About wha-"

Oh. Oh, yeah.

The past day's events flashed trough his mind's eye in a flurry of motion, and Zero brought his hand to his mouth again, as if to block anything that might dare to come out, jumping off the bed and sprinting to find a place where he could- well, you know. Through fuzzy eyesight, Clay watched his friend's actions in something akin to amazement, or maybe pity. He reached to push up his glasses and mutter a breathy "Very interesting…"- when he realized he still didn't have his glasses, instead settling for scratching his head at Zero. Clay was relieved he hadn't really seen a whole lot last night- mainly just a shadowed form lying, unmoving, on the floor with a glimmering dagger stuck in what he supposed was it's chest, though he didn't get close enough to tell.

Clay noticed Zero had settled for the window, and was- well, for lack of a better term, 'barfing his guts out', or maybe 'blowing chunks', or maybe-

Oh, that was _quite_ enough, Clay vehemently admonished his rampant mind. He really needed to stop before he was over there next to Zero.

A knock came at the door, and the muffled sound of a young girl's voice carried through the thick wood to them.

"Lord Rei? Are you in there? Is Lord Clay in there with you, per chance? Or do you know where he could be found? He is not in his room this morning. …Lord Rei?"

But Zero was too busy- er… at the window to answer her. The door was pushed open, and the puzzled and confused visage of the servant Clay recognized as one of the ones that had been at the party peered in. He reckoned she was in for a surprise- the picture that she was confronted with was quite unusual. Here he, Clay, lay, still in his bedclothes, on the floor, tangled in a bed sheet obviously belonging to the bed of his best friend, while Zero was hanging out of the window as far as he dared without the chance of falling out, making the most- urgh… _horrible_ noises.

Clay smiled sheepishly at the servant girl- Kizuna, he remembered from last night. If his memory served him correctly, she was the servant of Hiead Gner- or rather, the whole of the remaining Gner line, which wasn't much. "Yes, miss? Was there something you wanted?"

The pink-haired girl blinked and stared at him for a moment, as if she'd forgotten what she'd come for. Then remembrance crossed her features, and she smiled at him. "Oh. That's right. My Lord Hiead wishes to request your presence and that of Lord Rei in his chambers as soon as possible. He said he had something urgent to discuss with the two of you in private." Hiead's family had been given a large wing in the manor to stay in; Milan Enna and Douglas Gner had had some business to discuss over the next few days.

Clay nodded, effectively dismissing her back to her regular duties. "Yes, thank you, miss. We'll be there."

With one last lingering glance at Zero's back, Kizuna nodded slightly and shut the door behind her as she left.

The sound of the door being closed seemed to imply something final in Clay's mind, and he sighed and rested his head back against the bed, even as Zero continued his- er, well, continued on, though Clay had to wonder if the boy had anything left to- well, continue _with_.

What were they going to do?

Clay didn't realize he had asked that question out loud until Zero finally turned from the window and set himself down on the bed, feet barely missing Clay's head as they began to swing from side to side. "Do about what?"

"Hm? …Oh, nothing, just thinking aloud. Hiead wants to talk to us. More specifically, you, I suspect."

"Okay… Clay?"

"Yeah?"

"What… what happened last night?"

"I don't know, really. But I've been thinking, and I'm pretty sure Hiead had something to do with it."

"Why's that?"

"Just intuition, I guess. And a little detective work." He smirked up at his friend, pushed the feet that were getting dangerously close to smacking him in the head up onto the bed, and stood- promptly tripping over his blanket-trapped feet and crashing face-first to the ground.

"Ow."

-----

It was too late to go to Hiead's chambers by the time Clay had finished getting dressed for the day; the two young noblemen had breakfast to attend to, after all. It was decided that they would go together after the morning meal.

Zero was being more annoyingly hyperactive and even more talkative than usual. Clay wasn't a psychologist, but he guessed that the chocolate-haired boy's unusual behavior was due to trying to block out the traumatic experiences of yesterday; and in most circumstances, it appeared Zero was fine. If one happened to dig deeper, however, one would spot the vague haunted look shining, almost completely hidden, in the depths of those brown eyes. Clay predicted that his best friend could not hold up this false personality for long, for no matter how much inner strength the boy had, it would eventually wear him down.

It was already beginning to wear _Clay_ down. He sighed in frustration and caught hold of Zero's collar, forcibly dragging him away from the noble he had about to get into a fight with, Force, or something of the like. Zero was picking fights with anyone that bothered to notice him. Thankfully, most of these instances never went beyond a few curt words, before the other participant would give up on Zero's inability to follow simple logic and stalk away.

The two _finally_ made it to the dining room without getting into any really serious fights, and the blonde boy let out a sigh of relief. Thank God. They took their usual spots at the long table, and, to their surprise, spotted Hiead there as well, not far from where they were seated. The young Gner usually took his meals in his room, preferring to be as reclusive as possible, so this was quite a change from the norm.

Not a change, however, was the fact that Hiead uttered not one syllable during the entire course of the meal. Zero had expected at least _something_- some derogatory remark, maybe an accusation- aimed at his person, but apparently the silver-haired youth wasn't up to being his usual nasty self at the moment. Huh. Knowing him, though, Hiead would make up for the loss- and much more- during their little get-together later that morning.

With Clay wrapped up his own thoughts, and no one else interesting to talk to, Zero found his mind wandering into the realms of the memories of last night. No matter how hard he tried, how gigantic an effort he put forth, Zero could not force himself to force that horrible night. Every time he blinked, the scene in that dark room played for him on the back of his eyelids, if only for that one short instant, and he found he could not prevent it, no matter what he told his mind to focus on. It was going to drive him insane.

Next to him, Clay jerked out of his thoughts, sending a worried glance Zero's way.

"Hey Zero?"

"Yeah?"

"This morning… did you dream?"

Zero's eyes widened a bit, and he turned to stare at Clay, as blurred images of still frames from his dream the previous night flashed before his vision. "Yeah… I dreamed… of a long hallway with no sound… that suddenly got smaller and a child's voice… and a room with wind… and…"

"And what?"

At this, Zero's face procured a puzzled expression. "A rose… I think."

"A rose? … Interesting. What colour was it, may I ask?"

He blinked, staring at his friend in incomprehension for a moment, before the question seemed to dawn on him, "Oh… Red."

"Red?" Clay confirmed, pushing up his glasses. "Very interesting…"

"What's interesting?" he stared suspiciously at Clay, as if he suspected the youth of deliberately hiding something from him.

"Well… normally, roses can signify many different things. White roses mean to forget something, and red normally indicate remembrance."

"Remembering…?" his voice trailed off into something akin to wonder.

"Mm-hmm." Clay turned back to his meal, seeming to contemplate something.

-----

Breakfast was soon over, and Zero and Clay found themselves standing nervously outside the doors to Hiead and his father's chambers. They knew Douglas Gner was not in at the moment; they had seen him talking earnestly with Zero's father not ten minutes before, when the two had taken their leave of the dining room for the morning.

They were nervous because they had overheard yelling and shouting coming from inside the doors. One voice was obviously male; the other sounded female. Tentatively, Clay reached out and knocked sharply on the door- and the overbearing noise died down instantly. Not long after, Kizuna opened the doors for them, flashing a forced polite smile that did not quite cover her current annoyance.

"Master Hiead will see you now." She announced, showing them in. Hiead stood at a small table, literally glaring at them both- as if he hadn't been the one to ask them there in the first place!

"Zero Enna." He stated, as if Clay were not even there. And, to Hiead, it _was_ probably that way. Clay didn't seem to even exist in the nobleman's mind.

So why request _his_ presence, as well as Zero's? _That_ was a mystery unto itself.

"So we meet again!" Zero exclaimed- as if they had met by chance in the hallway or something, and not been asked to Hiead's own chambers. Clay sighed and pushed up his glasses in agitation. Typical Zero. The boy was way too high-stung.

"What do you want from me, Hiead!?" the brown-haired pilot demanded. Clay found a comfortable chair to view the proceedings from, so as to be alert in case Zero decided to start a fight. So impatient.

The blonde boy started a bit as Hiead began to smirk at Zero, ruby eyes glittering with an intensity not unlike Zero's own. "To strike a deal."

---

[1] Okay, I admit, most of that was from the ABC original series 'Rose Red', by Stephen King. However, I just thought it sort of fit here! That mini series was kinda cool, actually. One of my favorite ghost movies, right next to 'The Haunting'. ^.^

Comments? Criticism? Cookies? I'll take all three! ^.^

Nozomi


	4. Falling to Pieces

****

A Death At Hand

"Falling to Pieces"

__

By Nozomi

Stupid. He was so stupid.

Hiead sneered at the empty room, berating himself all over again.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

He had only meant to warn the boy of the consequences of annoying him, really. Bringing Fortran into it was to assure that no fighting would break out during their little talk. The boy may have been somewhat of a coward, but he could keep Zero under control easier than anyone else he knew could. But it had all gone wrong the instant Hiead opened his mouth.

A deal. What was he _thinking_, suggesting a deal? He didn't need Enna's help. The stupid boy would only get in the way, he knew that. Hiead had known that from the beginning.

Yet, _by God_, what had _ever_ pushed him to asking for help from _anyone_, let alone _him_, of all people?

Something- something had pushed him, something that did not feel like it was his own will.

But that was stupid, of course. What could possibly be inside him that wasn't his own?

It had nothing to do, of course, to any subtle, totally uncalled for fascination with the chocolate-eyed boy. Zero was annoying, talkative, childish, brash, naive- and he contained a certain alluring quality, a certain aura of untainted _innocence_, per say- even after the occurrences of last night- that had Hiead completely and utterly puzzled from square one. 

And he hated unbroken puzzles.

-----

Zero sat on his bed, head hanging dejectedly low, and eyes dancing with what might have been unshed tears, but ones that would never see the light of day. The discussion with Hiead after breakfast was furthest from his mind at the moment; in the quiet of his bedroom, the memories wouldn't be held back. 

He was a fool. Others wouldn't be so torn up about this; Clay wasn't. In fact, Zero hadn't even known Lord Rupert all that well, though the man had been a close friend of his father's. But he couldn't help feeling like it was his best friend, or his mother, who had been killed. It was as if someone else's feelings were invading his thoughts, or something. Definitely disconcerting, after all that had happened; with all he had to think about. He wondered if anyone else had ever felt like this before; he considered asking someone- maybe Clay, or even Hiead if he saw him again soon- but then thought better of it. They would probably laugh and tell him he was crazy, or, in Hiead's case, ignore him altogether or punch him.

That was it; he was going crazy. Pretty soon he'd be imagining as if it were he who had murdered someone, or starting to feel the urge to- oh, he didn't know, kiss Hiead or something just as dangerous to his health and overall well being.

That was a disturbing thought, all right. He shuddered in dismay, then glanced up as the door opened and Clay peeked in.

"Zero? What are you _doing_, sitting here in the dark?"

A sigh. "Nothing. Just thinking."

Boy, did he step into _that_ one. "Well, I hope you didn't hurt yourself too much," His best friend grinned at him, eyes shining with sudden inspiration. "C'mon."

"Where are we going?"

"Well, you seem unusually disturbed by last night's events. Maybe the local woman doctor might be able to help."

"You think?"

"Yeah, she might have some kinda medicine or herb that could make you forget, or something. Of course, it might also destroy some of your brain cells- which is the _last _thing you need."

Ever that grinning look. With a protesting cry, Zero jumped from the bed and pursued his blonde friend from his chambers and down the hall, Clay running and trying to laughingly apologize between puffed breaths.

-----

Kizuna saw the two visitors out of Hiead's chambers, then quietly slipped away, unnoticed, as Lord Hiead seemed to be entering one of his silent, glowering fits again. She found the Lady Ikhny roaming about the halls of the Manor, seemingly entranced with the splendor of it all. Kizuna wasn't surprised, for she had learned that Ticall Hall had been built very early in England's history, and had even once been called a Castle, though it was much too small to be an actual one. 

"Pretty, isn't it?" she said, causing the brown-haired girl to glance up shyly, a bit startled.

"Oh… yes. It's very beautiful," Ikhny replied, running a hand absently over the deep red of an ancient tapestry. "Very…"

"He's spent almost his whole life here, you know."

The girl jerked up as if burned, gaze shooting to the servant girl. "How did you…?"

Kizuna smiled knowingly, "Isn't that what you were thinking about? It's pretty obvious."

Ikhny's eyes dropped, embarrassed. "Um… not… not exactly…"

"Oh?" confused, the pink-haired girl continued, "Then… if I may ask… what was it?"

"It was just-… nothing. Just nothing, that's all." She replied, almost wrenching her hand from the cloth in her haste to leave the corridor. Kizuna watched her go with mild bewilderment. That girl was a bit much to understand.

Oh, well, back to her duties.

-----

"Stupid parties," Gareas Elidd muttered, throwing a pillow against the far wall, where it fell silently to the carpeted floor, "Stupid murder. And, most of all, stupid _Lord Rupert_!" with those words, he sighed heavily and collapsed sullenly back upon his bed. Due to last night's brutal man slaying, the seventeen-year-old was confined to his chambers and the corridor they lay on, and he didn't like it one bit.

Not one bit. He growled audibly and flopped over, burying his head in the over-filled blankets. Maybe, if he lay here long enough, he could suffocate himself and get _out _of this torture…

"It can't really be all _that _bad… can it?" Ernest Cuore, his longtime friend and best buddy of the same age, piped up helpfully. Damn. The blonde youth always seemed to be around him nowadays, giving encouraging little tidbits of speech for his mental digestion. What he couldn't seem to understand was that Gareas _liked_ to settle into a funk every once in awhile, especially when it wasn't uncalled for- though he didn't mind so much that Ernest hung around him a lot. He enjoyed the blue-eyed boy's company most of the time.

Now wasn't one of those times, however. He lifted his head of short green hair and narrowed his eyes at his friend, as if the very audacity of asking that particular question at this time created an unbearable enmity between the two. It wasn't true, of course, but it was a bit satisfying to imagine it was so.

"I mean…" Ernest continued, more withdrawn than before, as if he really didn't want to voice what he was thinking aloud, "Imagine what it's going to be like for those two they found actually in the room with the… the body. It must be a terrible strain on them both, Garu."

"Yeah?" Gareas sneered, eyes glued to the ceiling so his friend would know that the expression wasn't directed at him, "Well, _I_ don't think it's quite the way you think so, Ernest. At least not for one of them. That was _Hiead Gner_ in there. That cold-blooded sonuvabitch is probably laughing at the whole situation right now."

He thought he heard Ernest snort a laugh, and the green-eyed youth swung his gaze over to gaze balefully at the blonde.

"Perhaps you're right, Garu. I don't believe I've ever seen Gner feeling any kind of remorse at all, but anything is possible. Besides, Rei Enna was found with him in there."

"_That_ idiot?" he snorted in disgust and rolled over, "I didn't even know those two were friends."

"They're not," Ernest sounded so sure of himself, Garu rolled back over to stare at him.

"How do you-"

He was interrupted by a loud crash, then the tinkle of musical notes, as if a rather large vase had fallen heavily onto the keys of a piano and then rolled across it to the end. Garu jumped up and rushed to the door, Ernest close behind him. A glance down the hallway revealed nothing in particular out of the ordinary, and in fact nobody was even coming to investigate. The youth spotted a servant girl down the hall and hailed her to him.

"Yes, Lord?"

"What was that sound, that crash just now?"

"Crash, my Lord? What-"

"Oh, never mind," Garu cut her off in disgust at her lack of information, disappearing behind his door once again and leaving the young girl to stand, astonished, on the other side.

"_You _heard it, didn't you?" he demanded of Ernest once the door was closed again. The blonde nobleman nodded a bit distractedly. When no more answer came, Garu gave up and went to perch lightly on his bed, ready incase anything else happened.

"Garu…?" Ernest voiced at last, causing him to look up from his contemplation of the lushly carpeted floor.

"Hm?"

"Did you… What did it sound like, to you?"

"Huh? Oh. Um… like something crashing onto a piano, or something."

"And where… where did it come from?"

"Well, it sounded like it was in that direction," he motioned towards the wall in front of him, "But… now that I think about it… it wasn't muffled at all, almost like it happened in here," he looked a bit dismayed, "but that's impossible, right?"

"Mm," Ernest acknowledged, looking as if his friend had just unknowingly confirmed something rather frightening.

-----

"Zero!" a hushed whisper pierced the air of the stables. "Don't you think this is a bit much, after last time?"

"Aw, c'mon, Clay, don't be such a coward!" was shot back, barely piercing the blonde boy for how often he'd heard it before. Well, Zero was certainly looking better.

So, it _had_ been a good idea to seek help to suppress the memories of last night, Clay acknowledged. He had had to taunt and tease his friend to go to the woman next door who practiced medicine, -she _was_ a woman, after all, and Zero's father had forbid them to keep company with 'lowlifes' like her- but it had been worth it in the end. She had given his friend some sort of herb that she claimed would do "just the thing". Truthfully, both youths had been more than eager to leave as soon as possible, for the healer, Tsukasa Something-or-other, was obscenely tall, towering over both of them by a full five inches. She had made them both nervous.

At least Zero seemed to be feeling better. The brown-haired boy wasn't being as annoyingly _annoying_ as he had been earlier, and he had almost completely lost the haunted look in his eyes, though Tsukasa had said the herb wouldn't suppress the memories any further than the subconscious, so dreams would probably still awaken them at night for a long time to come. She had warned Zero to be cautious, however, for high levels of stress, anxiety, or just plain emotion could nullify the effects of the medicine if the right conditions were met.

Zero didn't seem to be bothered by that particular tidbit of information, as he was even now going against his father's orders for everyone to stay inside the manor until further notice. The blonde boy would much rather be looking around for information about what had really happened last night, but it was no use with a friend like Zero. And Clay couldn't help but accompany him, if only to make sure his friend didn't find more trouble, or that More Trouble wouldn't find him. The two usually seemed to go hand in hand.

"Hello? Is anyone in here?" a new voice came to them just as they reached the stalls of their two favorite horses, Ginger and Daisy. Startled, Clay jerked and ducked down as he recognized that voice all too well, and hoped that Zero knew enough to do the same.

"Lady Ikhny!" he hissed almost inaudibly, heart racing. What was she doing _here_? They were _so _going to get in trouble, now. He should never have come.

"Hello?" the girl called again, pushing up her glasses and glancing around. Clay could only describe the look upon her face as 'anxious', as he watched her from a hole in the wood of the stall. Ikhny took a few steps more into the stables, and the blonde youth found himself catching his breath in expectation.

"… Anyone…?" she sounded so lost, Clay thought. Why had she come in here in the first place, if not to get away from the manor like they had? He sneaked a glance in Zero's direction, saw the look on his face, and knew what was coming almost immediately- but it was too late.

At Zero's cry of greeting, the girl jumped and whirled in their direction, something in her brown eyes relaxing as she saw it was just the chocolate-haired youth who had popped up from behind the stall door.

"Mister Enna." She acknowledged, eyes full of some strange emotion that Clay couldn't decipher. "But… aren't you usually with…?" Ikhny came to a halting stop, blinking in surprise, as Clay took his cue and stood up as well, a look of obvious embarrassment upon his features. She nodded awkwardly in his general direction, then cast her eyes down.

God, how Zero hated uncomfortable silences. And, above all, the horses were waiting to be let out and given some exercise. Forcing a grin, he gestured towards the stalls.

"So, Ikhny… you wanna come? Being trapped in my own house it not exactly what I'd call a good time."

The girl looked startled to say the least, but, after a moment of consideration, she agreed. "I'd love to. I was actually looking for someone, but…"

This piqued Clay's interest a bit, as he paused from saddling his mare for a long instant. "Who, may I ask, Lady Ikhny?"

"Well…" she began, biting her lower lip in thought, "I'm not really sure… You see, I was following her, and I thought she ran in here… but now she's seemed to have just disappeared altogether. I must have just imagined things," she finished in a rush, looking put out.

The blonde youth looked thoughtful for a moment, then turned back to his horse, "Very interesting…"

Moments passed in silence between the three, until Zero looked up from his work on Daisy as a strong current of bitingly cold air whipped his brown locks of hair around his head, gaze jumping around uncertainly. He thought he'd heard- 

For just an instant-

…

It must have just been the wind, he thought, going back to his work, but still unable to shake the unnerving feeling that someone, _somewhere_ was watching him. He was so intent on forgetting it that he didn't notice Ikhny was looking at him rather strangely; then she looked away, and the moment was past.

'Find me…'

'Look at me…'

Just the wind.

-----

Okay, little twist, hm? Yes, a 'dark secret', as you termed it, Poetisa. I'm not quite sure when this fic is set, but I was actually leaning more toward England _before_ the War- around 1910 or so- than between the Wars.

Oh, and one more thing: I'm not happy with this overall chapter like I have been with the others, so please comment on it, ok? I think I may need to re-write it. *sigh*

Nozomi


	5. One Foresworn

****

A Death At Hand

__

One Foresworn

It isn't every day that one finds oneself in the middle of hip-deep intrigue in one's own homestead; rarer still to find oneself clattering across the path of a mutual rival-- even if what the rivalry is _for_ is not actually known to at least one of the involved parties.

"Hey-- look out!" Zero had barely a moment to warn the person in the intended path of his mount-- let alone to realize who it was-- before Daisy was right on top of them, rearing up, front hooves pawing the air wildly as she tried desperately not to connect with the person she could so easily kill. In a flash, the silver-haired youth-- for it was, indeed, Hiead Gner who had inadvertently stumbled across this deadly path-- rushed around the horse, yanking the reins from Zero's loose grasp and tugging sharply downward, preventing Daisy from bolting. The chestnut mare snorted and fought his unrelenting grip, eyes wide with fear at the unexpected situation, but he just glared at her with ruby chips of ice and tugged again, until finally she calmed and settled down, prancing about a bit in nervousness of his presence. She didn't like him; didn't like this human with the smell of death and vengeance on him.

Losing his already tentative balance at his mount's uncharacteristic prancing, and with nothing to keep him from falling-- the reins having been procured from his limp hands just a moment before-- Zero did, indeed, fall-- sideways, and bodily, into Hiead, arms flailing wildly in a useless attempt to regain his stolen balance. Hiead fell to the ground with him, caught up in the brown-haired boy's momentum, a short grunt of pain falling from his lips as they both connected with the ground.

So maybe making that bet that he could beat Clay in a race hadn't been so smart, after all.

Zero grimaced as he found his face pressed uncomfortably hard into Hiead's breastbone, and pushed himself onto his hands and knees, effectively but accidentally trapping the silver-haired youth beneath him for a long moment as he stared down into that unwavering gaze. The brown-haired youth's look was met by another harsh, almost sullen, wine-colored glare from Hiead, and he smirked at that and stood before Hiead had a chance to lash out at him, offering a hand up to the other boy that wasn't taken. At that, he rolled his eyes and threw up his hands in frustration, watching as Hiead stood and brushed himself off almost delicately, if a word of such feeling could indeed be applied to such a person. "Oh, c'mon, I'm not gonna bite, ya know! Or do you even know what the word 'friendly' means!"

"I was not aware that, in your case, it implies 'overbearing', 'tenacious', and 'utterly annoying'," Hiead cocked his head Zero's way and smirked, hands comfortably in his pockets in a casual manner belying the stiff, antagonistic nature beneath the exterior.

"Oh, that's it! I'm taking you down, Hiead!" Zero yelled, lunging for the silver-haired boy's throat in fury, only for Clay's arms to hook under his shoulders and forcibly restrain him, lifting the brown-haired youth up from the ground just enough so that he couldn't charge forward in a blind rage like he _so_ wanted to do. Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Ikhny, sitting sidesaddle on the roan that was pulled up next to Clay's. Damn it! In his rage, he had utterly forgotten about the sandy-haired youth who was oftentimes his conscience, and he greatly disliked being physically held back from a fight, so much so that he struggled violently for a moment, probably landing a few good hits to Clay in the process. Oh well, he deserved it for coming in at just the wrong moment in this little turn of events! Hiead had had it coming to him, anyway! It wasn't like he was just picking a fight with anyone!

Well, not _now_, anyway...

"Zero! You shouldn't fight like this! You'll get in trouble, both of you! And that'll get _me_ in trouble for not stopping you!" Clay's voice was laced with the strain of holding him back, but Zero paid it no attention, opting instead to send a death glare Hiead's way.

Hiead seemingly ignored it for a moment. Then, in a characteristic move as quick as lightning, he turned and landed a swift punch to Zero's gut, knocking the wind out of him. The chocolate-haired youth reeled, head dropping down to his chest as he sucked in a deep breath, his vision swimming. As he regained his coordination, he resumed his struggles twofold and lifted his head to glare at Hiead again, fire in his eyes. "Coward!" he spat, almost raving, "Why don't you fight me like a man?!"

__

*"You think it's just you...?!"*

He blinked and stopped moving at the sudden voice in his mind (much to Clay's relief), as Hiead turned and began to walk-- almost saunter-- off. Zero thought he could hear the boy snickering at him, and he growled low in his throat at Hiead's almost inaudible retort.

"Because you aren't worth it."

-----

"Ow."

"What?"

"Nothing," Zero glared at the wall that had felt freezing to the touch, then dared to touch it again, with the tip of one finger. Huh. It felt fine _now_.

Well, _he_ was still freezing. Zero sighed deeply and flopped backwards on to the bed, narrowly missing braining himself on the knee that stuck out from Clay's cross-legged position. He stared up at the sandy-haired boy's upside-down face sullenly, wishing he had someone to blame beside himself for this mess.

"This is your fault, you know," Clay told him pointedly, looking put out. "Your fault that we're stuck in a room with no insulation for _five whole hours_!" his voiced cracked at the last, but he didn't seem to notice.

Yeah, like Zero didn't already _know_ that!

He glared and rolled over, pushing himself to his knees and ignoring the ache from various bruised body parts as he did so. "I know that! But how come that coward isn't in here with us! It was as much his fault as mine! He pro... pro... provo-" Crap, what was that word again? "He started it!"

Clay gave him an incredulous look. "You actually _want_ to be locked in a locked room with a twisted psychopath? That's not exactly my idea of a day well-spent."

"He started it!" Zero repeated relentlessly. "It was his fault! He made me want to beat him up!"

"Hmm..." was Clay's only response as he continued to glare pointedly at his best friend. Zero fidgeted and managed to look very put-out, as if he had been the one to be wronged. In all truth, Hiead _should_ have been up in that icy tower with the two teens, suffering like they were, but Zero's father had firmly put down his foot at the notion, on the guise that the young Gner was a guest in his house, and that no matter what the silver-haired youth did to deserve it, Zero was _not _to get into a fight with his guests.

"Never mind that!" the chocolate-eyed boy literally shouted after an achingly long bout of unnerving silence between the two, where the harsh voice of the wind rattling violently through the eaves was their sole source of comfort. The sudden harsh yell made the sandy-haired youth's heart lurch, then speed up twofold. He settled for glaring indignantly at Zero some more for the indignation on his part.

The brown-haired boy ignored the look as he jumped off from the lone bed and began to explore the small, tower-like room thoroughly, making little inquisitive noises in the back of his throat as he did so. Clay sighed deeply with annoyed chagrin and closed his eyes. He felt a headache coming on, even as he wrapped his arms around himself, hoping to contain what little warmth there was left in his body. At this rate, the two would freeze to death up here!

Well, at least Lady Ikhny hadn't gotten into any sort of trouble, either. Both he and Zero had testified on her part to her father about that; although Zero's 'testimony' had been more of a sullen aside of, "'s wasn't her fault," than anything really solid.

Clay sighed, then shivered again, suddenly made acutely aware that Zero's murmurings had dropped in pitch until they were nothing but additions to the whispering wind, and that, with his eyes tightly shut as they were, he might as well have been all alone up here. He hurriedly snapped his eyes open, only to find that Zero was nowhere to be seen, and a strange, ghostly flurry of chills danced up his spine before he realized that his friend must be behind him. The thought did little to comfort him, however, as his hands wouldn't relax from the tight fists they had formed. Clay realized that he was shaking slightly, and, unbidden, a nervous laugh escaped his lips.

"...Clay?" Zero's concerned voice made him jump slightly, and a muscle in his upper right arm began to twitch.

"Y-yeah...?" his voice was strained, no matter what he did to hide it.

The sound of Zero shifting, behind and to the left of him, and creaking floorboards as the brown-haired youth stood.

A ghostly caress of warm air against the back of his neck, like a lover's heated touch-- much, _much_ closer than Zero could be. Clay's eyes widened impossibly wide, and another bout of violent tremors danced merrily down his spine.

"YEARGH!!"

***********

Sorry for the long delay in chapters, guys. I've actually had this 75% done for awhile, but the rest just wouldn't come to me. I'm really sorry about that. Hopefully I can get the next chapter out quicker than this one... ^.^; And hopefully it will be longer and better than this... er, really bad chapter, too.

Oh, and if any of you are Yu-Gi-Oh fans, would you mind checking out my new fic? It's called _Of Pointed Ears and Dancing Fairylight_ and will have shounen ai in the future (Y/Y, S/J, B/R, perhaps some M/A). I'm really working hard on it, since there seems to be an unusual amount of drivel in the YGO fandom.

Oh, and a small reminder: See that little button down there? Click it and type some stuff in it, and it'll really make the author's day. ^.^

Till Next We Meet,

Nozomi


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